Part 103 of the Elfwine Chronicles. The Elfwine Chronicles are a series of one-shots built around the family group of Eomer, Lothiriel and Elfwine. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes.

A/N: Gotta love those visual "triggers". My latest issue of a magazine had several photos that set me off on this plot line.

Fishing

(June, 7 IV)

Originally, Eomer had thought to go on a small fishing trip with Eothain. Once his son got wind of his plans, however, he eagerly begged permission to accompany them, and have his father teach him to fish. Briefly, Eomer was torn between wanting the simple relaxation that fishing afforded and wanting to spend the time with his son, but eventually he decided the latter was more important to him and he consented.

The boy's mother was not quite so taken with the idea, thinking their son rather young for such a venture, but her husband assured her it would not be dangerous, and even if the boy caught nothing, he would enjoy himself.

"You will not get so caught up in fishing with Eothain that you forget to keep watch over your son – and allow him to get hurt or drown or…something?" Lothiriel demanded.

Eomer let out a choked laugh, then bent and kissed her on the nose, wrapping his arms lovingly around his wife.

"Tell me, Thiri," he inquired with a chuckle, "do all mothers envision these dreadful calamities befalling their children, whenever the children leave their sight? Or is it just you, my love?"

She ducked her head sheepishly and could not hold back a guilty grin. "I am sorry–" she began, but he cut her off with a kiss.

Catching her by the shoulders, he looked deeply into her eyes. "I promise I will not let anything bad happen to our son – I would sooner die myself. But you are right to remind me not to get so involved in my own pleasure that I neglect my duty to Elfwine."

Reassured, she nodded, and hugged him tightly in gratitude for his patience with her.

xx

The June day of their departure presented them with glorious weather, and Elfwine was equally excited about learning to fish, getting to ride and spending time with his father. Eothain could not help but gaze on father and son with an envious eye. He had never consciously not married; he simply had never met anyone that inclined him to do so. Still, a son and heir to do such things with would be very nice.

They set up camp along the Entwade, and though their escort was prepared to do most of the work, Eomer took the opportunity to let Elfwine help with collecting firewood, organizing the tents once they were up and whatever else interested the boy, and that he seemed capable of doing in some fashion.

Their first afternoon, they had arrived too late to do any fishing, but Eothain, Eomer and Elfwine walked the shore of the river, looking for likely spots to make use of the next day.

Gathered around the fire that night, the men of the escort seemed to enjoy the company of the young prince. He plied them with questions about anything and everything, and those with sons of their own could not help thinking they would have to make time to take their own sons fishing this summer.

At length everyone settled in for the night, save the guards that were posted for protection, and Elfwine snuggled in close to his father, where he quickly fell asleep. Eomer lay awake longer, enjoying the feel of the boy in his arms. His life did not afford many such opportunities as this; he was glad he had not foolishly insisted on going fishing with just Eothain.

xx

The next morning dawned bright and clear also. The men were up and making breakfast just at dawn, but Eomer let Elfwine sleep as long as possible.

Finally, it was time and he went to their tent, kneeling to shake the boy. "Elfwine? It is time to rise. We must get an early start if we wish to catch many fish!"

The boy groaned a bit, but sat up rubbing his eyes in the dim light of the lantern his father had set on a nearby table. Then, as he came fully awake, he grinned eagerly and quickly began scooting into his clothes while his father watched in amusement.

When they arrived at the fire, Eothain looked up and teased, "Ah, the fishermen of Meduseld! Are you ready, young Elfwine?"

"I am!" Elfwine assured him excitedly, barely able to force himself to sit and eat his porridge.

Once breakfast was hastily downed, the three made their way to the spot they had chosen the previous day. Settling on the bank, Eomer carefully showed his son how to bait his hook, and then Eothain waded out into the river and demonstrated how to cast a line.

It took many tries before Elfwine got the hang of it, but eventually he was able to make a reasonable cast. Once he was settled, with his line in the water, Eomer took up his own pole and joined the others.

Then came the waiting. Elfwine soon discovered that fishing could be quite boring, and standing around in the water was not all that much fun. After what seemed a very great while, during which nothing was caught, Eothain finally caught a fish too small to keep and he threw it back.

At that point, Eomer and Eothain decided perhaps they should try their luck in another spot. Collecting their things, and keeping their lines from tangling while they made the move, was a little more interesting, but soon they were once more just standing and staring at their lines in the water.

After more than an hour, Eomer noticed that his son was flagging, and since this spot wasn't proving much more productive than the previous, they again decided to move. This time, their location had a large grassy spit of land jutting into the water, and Eomer settled he and Elfwine on it, explaining that fishing could sometimes be done sitting down on the riverbank. Eothain left them to it, and continued his efforts out in the water, taking up position slightly downstream of them.

For a six-year-old, sitting on the bank was less wearying than standing for long periods, but the idleness was telling on him. It took a while for Eomer to realize that his son was edging closer to him. He hid a smile as he kept his eyes on his line. Soon, Elfwine was right next to him, and leaning against his arm. With so little activity, he took the pole in his left hand and put an arm around his son, eliciting a pleased grin.

Within a few minutes, Elfwine had set his pole down and moved into Eomer's lap. It was not long before the boy was sound asleep, and missed seeing Eothain catch a very large fish a short while later. At Eothain's exclamation of success, Eomer had been tempted to waken his son, settled so peacefully in his arms, but then thought better of it. After all, catching fish wasn't truly the purpose of this trip anyway.

THE END

9/18/06

A/N2: Although the Snowbourn is closer, I am assuming it might be a bit cold for good fishing, and that most of the Entwash is too big to fish without a boat. Therefore, they cross over into the West Emnet and fish along the area around the Entwade. I am not a fisherwoman and have never been fishing in my life, so that could be a totally ridiculous assumption. If so, they just like fishing at the Entwade, okay?

End note: It is best that you read the Elfwine Chronicles in the order they were written. The more of them that I wrote, the more likely I was to make reference to one of the previous ones and something that happened there. If you want to read them in order, go to the top of this page and click on my name (Deandra). That will take you to my profile page. Scroll down and you will find all the stories I have written. The Elfwine Chronicles are in order from bottom to top since ffn shows them in the order they were posted. A few were posted out of number order (#15 came after #17, I think), but you can read them in posting order or number order since those few won't be affected in the story content.